


Javert and Valjean both want to yeet themselves into the Seine at the very same time!!

by hugejackedman



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Awkwardness, I don’t think this counts as flirting because they’re both in extreme pain, M/M, Madeleine Era, Montreuil-sur-Mer, Why are they both so shy, Yikes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-07-24 19:43:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16181876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hugejackedman/pseuds/hugejackedman
Summary: So you know how in the film Valjean says ‘your face is not a face I would forget’ and Javert looks confused and sad? This is me thinking ‘what if Valjean had emotional intelligence and actually picked up on this?’ So yeah uh I wrote this a few months ago and I never want to read it again because it’s the first fanfic I’ve ever written so yikes. The grammar is fine and all that it’s just probably really out of character.





	Javert and Valjean both want to yeet themselves into the Seine at the very same time!!

Javert looked at him, his eyes holding a false warmness used only for polite interactions with superiors as they briefly studied Valjean’s face.

“It seems to me we may have met,” he said with a faint curve of his lips.

Outwardly, Valjean was calm. Inwardly, he was fumbling for a response. Although his identity was a lie, forging papers and playing the part of a businessman was different to lying to someone’s face. He wasn’t about to risk having his inner panic show through his eyes and face, betraying his words. This man was an experienced inspector of the police. Surely he would spot if he lied, Valjean thought.

“Your face is not a face I would forget,” he countered with an easy smile. There. Not a lie, for Valjean had always found Javert’s face something of interest to him in a way he was unsure of. After not having seen him for all these years his face should evoke painful memories of Toulon, but instead he felt a mixture of fear, respect and, if he got too lost in his thoughts, the urge to unmask his polite, neutral countenance and see what lies beneath. His thoughts go further astray: he wished to test Javert, to see if he could ever show an appearance of kindness and warmth. It was preposterous, that much he knew– Javert was a man of the law, a former prison guard– he had never displayed kindness, never been sympathetic to the suffering of inmates, and, Valjean thought, likely doesn’t show kindness to the poor women and gamin of the streets in his new post either.

And yet, Valjean wanted to believe he was capable of it. If Valjean could go from being an angry convict, consumed by hatred and willing to steal from the only person who had shown his kindness in 19 years to a successful and kind mayor who prayed and attended to church and went out alms-giving every Sunday– then surely Javert could change too. And he would have to go through a much smaller change than Valjean! He was already a lawful man, and to become a kind man as well surely could not be so difficult.

His thoughts dispersed when he suddenly recognised the look of– well. He wasn’t sure what. Sadness? Disappointment? Dejection? But surely Valjean wasn’t capable of causing Javert to feel that way, surely Javert wasn’t the type of man to be affected by the words of a man he had just met (or so Javert thought). What had he done? He ran the words he had said through his head. Oh. Oh God, Valjean thought. In his rush to deny Javert’s suggestion, he had offended the man. How foolish he had been! Valjean, who had meant it as a strange type of compliment, had not considered that Javert would take it as an insult!

But what could he say? Please forgive me Inspector I didn’t mean that as an insult, I actually find you- attractive? Pleasing to look at? Scary but not in an entirely bad way? Intriguing? What could he tell him when he didn’t even know himself?

So instead he stuttered over his response, his mouth not entirely connected to his brain.

“Forgive me Inspector, I did not mean to sound rude. I do not mean to say your face is unsightly; quite the opposite, I have always thought your face to be... agreeable.” He felt a flush creep up his neck after he said it, and hoped it wouldn’t be visible. Of course ‘agreeable’ didn’t cover what he felt at all, but there wasn’t a way of explaining the confused emotions that had sprung up since seeing Javert for the first time in so long without seeming either unprofessional and forward or completely off his head.

Javert looked down, bewildered and blushing faintly. He appeared to be taking a moment to sort through what Valjean had said, even though he had hardly given a speech. He frowned and opened his mouth slightly, and finally met Valjean’s eyes again.

“Monsieur le Maire... do not feel the need to go back on your words. I know I am not much to look at, and if anything it helps me; I fear I would not be very intimidating if I had handsome features. But I must ask, what do you mean by ‘always’? Are you not seeing me for the first time?” His face had remained polite but sceptical as he spoke, and was now thoroughly perplexed.

Valjean paled and inwardly cursed his stupid mouth. Damn it all, he thought, I’ve only just met him again since Toulon and he’s already halfway to realising who I am. He quickly came up with another excuse for his half-witted words.

“Ah. Well. I may have been somewhat untruthful; I have seen you several times before, but we have never properly met. I did not mention this because I am... embarrassed. I have seen you on duty this past week but never stopped to introduce myself. It was rude of me; and since you hadn’t noticed me those times I saw you I thought it best not to mention it.” Valjean averted his gaze after he finished speaking, for fear that Javert would look into his eyes and know that he was lying. It would simply look like Valjean was embarrassed at his own confession.

“Do not worry yourself Monsieur. I was probably busy all those times anyway. I must have done the same, for I can see no other reason for why your face seems familiar.” Javert gave him a reassuring upward twitch of lips that disappeared as soon as it came, and Valjean longed for it to reappear.

“I am glad you are not offended, and if you have done the same, then that probably is the reason why I seem familiar. I’m certainly not important enough to have paintings of me hung up anywhere!” Relief swept over him as Javert offered him a small smile for his attempt at a joke, and new-found confidence pushed him to say, “and about what you said earlier... to say you are ‘not much to look at’ is wrong. Your beard may be grey but your face stands the rest of time, which is more than can be said for most men your age. It is better to be modestly handsome for 40 years than overly handsome only for 10 years.”

With a flush he realised he’d just implied Javert was handsome. Modestly handsome, yes, but handsome nonetheless. What was he doing? Valjean, the criminal, flirting with Javert, the police inspector? Javert, who was probably married by now and most definitely not gay. At that thought, Valjean was taken by surprise. What would that matter? Valjean was not gay, he thought to himself, he just recognised an attractive man when he saw one. That was all. His mind conveniently ignored the fact that he failed to recognise attractive women. Besides, he thought, even if he was... he wouldn’t dare pursue Javert. That would be equivalent to asking to be sent back to prison.

He was brought back to the present by Javert’s stuttered words. Javert wasn’t masking his surprise, which was twinged with embarrassment as he stood before Valjean, flustered and avoiding his eyes.

“I... Monsieur le Maire. That is very kind of you to say, but I must insist it is not true. I think you are the first person to have ever complimented me, which is proof that I am definitely not handsome in the slightest, and demonstration of your benevolence.” He paused for a beat and swallowed nervously. “I do not know how to praise people like you do, but seeing as you have flattered me so much I feel it only just to return the favour. You must know that you are much more... personable than me. Your features are nothing like mine; they are kind and well-proportioned, while mine are ugly and harsh.” He had struggled to keep looking Valjean in the eye through his embarrassment, and now allowed himself to avert his gaze. It was charming, Valjean thought, to see the stern, formidable guard he had once known flustered and unsettled. He couldn’t hold back a grin at the sight.

“Inspector. If you continue to disagree with me, I will continue to compliment you until you see the truth. You likely haven’t been praised on your looks before because people would be afraid to; you are intimidating, but not because you are ugly. You are tall and wear your uniform proudly. And thank you for your admiration, but I do not expect you to say anything back– I would not force you to share in my unprofessionalism.” He laughed, and Javert looked relieved. “Also, a kind face is not derived from the quality and shape of the features, but from the virtue of the man himself. I think your face could look kind if you allowed it– even now it is kinder than before!”

Javert gave him a strange, disbelieving smile. His brows were still softly furrowed but his eyes were unmistakably light and his cheeks were uneven, with one reaching up higher than the other so that one eye crinkled round the edges. Valjean grinned, for he had coaxed a genuine smile out of him. He could think of no description other than that it was captivating in a way that Javert had never been to him at Toulon.

What had changed? He had never found Javert ugly, unlike so many of the other forgotten faces of the guards at Toulon. He would admit that. But now, seeing Javert’s lopsided, imperfect smile and taking in all the tiny details of his face, committing them to memory out of fear that he may never see that expression again- surely that was not normal? He had never done that for anyone else. He had never longed to see a specific person smile. So why Javert, of all people? How could he feel such new, surprising warmth blooming in him for the one man that had the power to ruin his life and return him to prison? This was dangerous. Surely it could not be that difficult for Javert to recognise him- all it would take is for his sleeve to slip up his wrist and expose his scars or to be caught in the rain and have his numbers show through his cheap white shirt- and he would be done for. So why couldn’t he stop this foolishness?

Javert spoke again and Valjean loyally turned his attention to him, not willing to answer his own question.

“You are hardly unprofessional, Monsieur. Rather, you are much more interesting and easy to talk to than most of my superiors, even though we have been debating each other’s looks and you have refused to see the truth. And maybe I would allow myself to be kinder if I was a man of any other profession, but my new superiors would likely think me a ninny if spoke friendly words to an unruly gamin.” His crooked smile had shifted so that the other cheek didn’t rise as much; it was more balanced and his expression was soft. How funny, Valjean thought, that Javert didn’t know that his face was kind now and didn’t know of it’s power to stir such improper thoughts and feelings of affection within him.

“You do not have to be kind to those undeserving of it, Inspector, but to those who are innocent and pleasant to you- you should allow yourself to smile more and let the sternness fade away a little, as you are doing with me now. It suits you.” Valjean gave him a gentle, broad smile. Complimenting each other still made each man blush, but it was no longer awkward and bordering on unprofessional- it was more natural and accepted. It gave Valjean confidence, and Javert now seemed relaxed in his company. He was, unsurprisingly, flustered by the comment and Valjean remembered the false politeness he had held when Valjean had first entered the room. And at remembering that he realised that he had kept Javert over half an hour, and that he had places to be and Javert probably did too.

“Inspector, I do apologise. I have kept you much longer than intended and you no doubt have matters to attend to. I cannot say I regret it though, and if you are amenable I would like to meet you again soon. I know you will see me often in a work capacity, but if you would like to meet me for a walk or to have lunch or dinner together, I would be happy.” He knew Javert would probably politely decline, but it was worth a try, even if it was a terrible idea.

Valjean’s brain and heart were at war over it. His brain was asking him if he was suicidal, and his heart was countering with some absolute nonsense about how Javert is good company and how he lacked real friends- and a thread of hope that if Javert became good friends with Valjean, there was a chance he might not arrest him if he realised who he was. He knew it was ridiculous, for Javert was loyal to the law and wouldn’t betray it just just because he was friends with Valjean, and yet he still clung onto it. There was no harm in trying, he thought. He would get to keep spending time with Javert, and maybe he would figure out what his feelings for Javert really were. And what if he finds out who you really are? The voice in the back of his head called out to him. Valjean ignored it; he had already made up his mind.

“Do not apologise, Monsieur le Maire. I had no urgent matters and I, too, have enjoyed your company.”

Valjean inclined his head and was about to speak when a commotion from outside drew his attention to the window. He and Javert shared a glance before swiftly heading for the stairs.

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like jumping off my roof right now but you know. If anyone is still even in this fandom and has read this and doesn’t completely hate it, kudos would be much appreciated. Constructive criticism also welcome.


End file.
